


The vague state

by fish_wifey



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Kissing in the Rain, M/M, kissing for comfort, no hurt/just comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-25
Updated: 2014-07-25
Packaged: 2018-02-10 10:38:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2021955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fish_wifey/pseuds/fish_wifey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the loss to Seirin, Takao searches for Midorima in the rain, set to lift up his spirits. Later they find each other unable to figure out what they are to each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The vague state

**Author's Note:**

> I loved that scene with Midorima in the rain and it inspired me any time I saw it <3 After-defeat/comfort fics ;A; this one is set after Shuutoku’s loss to Seirin, from season 1.
> 
> F+tM Drumming song is how I feel about love and how I feel about the ‘love’ felt in this fic.

The pavement is a mess of harsh rainfall, drops splattering, the sound of a thousand a loud sound in his ears, while the sheen of water rises under the pounding rain. Kazunari looks up with a quirked eyebrow, wondering if it had been raining their entire game. It's dark as well, lights around the arena on, giving the general area a gentle spread of warm light, which his heart has lost contact with. Pushing the dread aside, he sighs, stepping forward. They didn't bring an umbrella, since the day started out so sunny, and Kazunari doesn't think hiding under his jersey will do any good against this heavy downpour. Being soaked either way isn't the issue here; finding Shintarou is.

The rest of the team didn't particularly care if he had left or not. Kazunari sorta knows that it's not uncaring; if Shintarou is upset about losing, they'd rather stay away, leaving the man alone. Try as he might, Kazunari cannot follow his seniors’ example. Ootsubo doesn't say anything when two bags are taken out of the locker room and Kazunari says his cheery good bye's while he waves. Losing didn't put a too huge dent in his general life, but the mood-drop and the unpleasant surprise of losing with Midorima ‘shooting hoops from the other fucking side’ Shintarou had it’s effect on him. Kazunari had felt loss in the past, but he could be sure Shintarou hasn’t, and might take it too hard on himself. Mr. Perfect not so Perfect after all. It brought an iciness to Kazunari’s grin, fitting to the rain.

As predicted, he gets soaked through and through within the first searching minutes. He doesn't have to go on looking for long, with an orange jersey standing out miles away within the darker atmosphere; an atmosphere intensified by the man standing there all alone. Kazunari comes closer, the grin on his lips, a joke on his tongue, when he sees unnatural falling raindrops on Shintarou's face. A straight stream that comes from the eyes. _Don't tell me...this guy!?_

Gulping down the emptiness in his lost bravado, he steps forward, trying to regain that heart-warming smile no one ever compliments him about. He doesn't give a shit about pride, moments best spend alone, or safe distances, while a harder, and more pressuring feeling thickens the air in his lungs as he waves at Shintarou.

"Yo, so here's where you've been hiding." Within an instant -and seeing the eyes widen, the wet evidence running down before anger takes over in green eyes- Shintarou turns around. Kazunari doesn’t need special eye techniques to envision Shintarou wiping fingers beneath glasses, to regain composure for himself before turning. Kazunari checks the bags one more time before picking Shintarou’s from his shoulder and holding it in front of him.

"Why are you even here?" Wordlessly, he takes his bag from Kazunari’s arm, swings it over his head and places the strap on one shoulder. Having enough time from the second he decided on finding Shintarou, to the minute he found him, Kazunari had chosen his words wisely in his head, laying them out in different intonations and finding the right one; not too pleased, not too kind, definitely hiding his actual reason.

"Oh, sooo cooold! Well, see, I had this passing fancy that you were calling out to me~!"

"Stop it, Takao." Hah, he wished it was all just a joke. Truthfully, and while Shintarou works himself into a rant, Kazunari meant that bit. An iron-hard anchor rammed into his chest the second he didn't see Shintarou in the changing rooms, a heavy feeling he couldn't shake; like the pull of a strong ship that needed rescue. It was a quiet, unspoken, unthinkable desperation clinging to him; he recognized the reasoning behind it, chose to deal with his own personal disaster later. First he had to find Shintarou.

That's how he came here, now being used as a punching-ball for those ungrateful moodswings. He faced them with his unbreakable smile, balled his fists in his pockets and cursed the rain.

“No reason to act the tough guy, Shin-chan.” 

"Give me a break already, I'm not in the mood for your shitty jokes."

"Meaning, usually you are?" He tilts his head, glad to see Shintarou's wet face came the rain and nothing else. Happy to hear the energy and jet-fire readiness for disproving comebacks. Carefully, decreasing the distance between himself and the hurt animal in front, Kazunari stepped closer, watching Shintarou like a hawk for any signs that he would run away if he'd made sudden movements.

"Don't fool yourself. You're always annoying me." _Yet you haven’t moved from your spot._ Kazunari's smile became gentle, a finger reaching out to hook into Shintarou's pockets. If they didn't find shelter, a warm place with something to eat, they'd catch a cold. The rain became less heavy, but the winds still breezed past, sending shivers. Standing in front of him, Kazunari didn’t feel the same icy breeze he usually facesd, Shintarou stock-still, eyes watching. Their sneakers touched at the toes, Kazunari leaning in and waiting for rejection. None came, and so he follows the impulse in his chest, forward, upward, like Icarus reaching for the sun, only to be burned ( _at least it would be warm_ ). He meets the lips with a testing touch, eyes wide open. Murmuring on the straight line of lips for Shintarou not to be heartbroken.

"I hate losing." It's whispered in an entirely different tone of what he's ever heard of Shintarou, who doesn't come with a wide oeuvre of intonations, like Kazunari. He crooks an eyebrow, shaking his head. 

"No less than I do, Shin-chan. We'll beat them next time." Despite the freaking cold, despite both being as wet as it can be, despite the rain stopping around them, they stay in this closed-off bubble, time stopping. Kazunari leaves the final decision to Shintarou, who 'hmph's upon leaning down, locking their lips for a simple kiss that doesn't mean anything at all.

“Your stupid optimism is not necessary, Takao. Of course we will win.”

*~*~*

They walk back to where their 'ride' is parked. Both know that their team is already off, and as usual, the first years regulars stick together. Kazunari challenges Shintarou to jankenpon, knowing quite well that he'll lose. It's just that he wants to lift up Shin's mood, just before they can eat their disappointment away and wallow in self-pity.

After settling on the pedals and ready to drive off whenever Shintarou is seated, he hears the scrape of his sneakers beside him, tilting his head up in surprise. Usually, Shintarou is quite impatient and he doesn't like the cold very much. For a moment, Kazunari waits until the other says something, sensing from the furrowed brows and pained expression that there's something on Shintarou’s mind dying to be spoken.

When the other bites his lips, Kazunari starts to worry; the expression is so not to be placed on that face, too vulnerable and open and inviting. Smiling and waving it off, Kazunari thumbs back to the seat, telling him they should leave this place of misery and misfortune and search for a warm place serving food.

"Shut up." And then, after the stubborn head checks both ways, there's two set of fingers on Kazunari’s face, guiding him up while he sputters, when suddenly a short kiss endures half a minute longer than the first one crashes on him, a tongue chasing down the protest. Within the same instant of it’s beginning, ending with a bite on Kazunari’s bottom lip while he steals a glance at annoyed eyes, Shintarou backs off without another look back, sitting in the cart with his back turned on Kazunari. Confounded, blinking it off and asking what the Hell got into Shintarou for that one, Kazunari turns to face it.

Silence greets him, the answer for this evening.

*~*~*

"By the way, you don't have to hit so freaking hard! It was an honest accident." The rain hasn't started yet again and Kazunari pedals with all his might, standing and giving it his all. He doesn't want to be greeted by yet another storm. Homewards and into a hot bath, sweet tea and a dessert is what he longs for.

"You were reckless with your food, I hope it taught you a lesson not to throw it so high next time." Not listening to the lecture, Kazunari hopes Shintarou will be joining him; into the bath, next to him beneath the kotatsu, eating fruits and maybe seduce Shintarou into eating out of his hand. Maybe, and he really hopes for it, Shintarou will still be too sad because of the loss and finds the need to not spend the night alone.

"Next time? Heeeeh, are you inviting me, Shin-chan!? Is it a da~te~?" Bearing a little hope within the mock-high question, he doesn't take his eyes of the streets, knowing he's nearly there when he crosses the corner.

"Don't be a fool."

"Stingy again! Not so generous, are we? Then how about this; come to my place right now. I want to make up for the okonomiyaki debacle." _And take care of him, the few ways he’ll let me_ The sudden silence makes him hope the other thinks about the offer, until that silence extends itself in an awkward non-answer. At the same time Kazunari starts to regret his foolish hoping visions, they come at the intersection; one way goes to Shintarou's place, the other to Kazunari's. Not being the sore loser, he leans the bike towards the direction further away from his home, as Shintarou speaks up at last.

"Excuse me, didn't you just mention you'd pay your dues to me?" Turning his head, he sees Shintarou, facing him, half of his face visible as he stares. "Well, what about it? Or was it all just hot air, Takao?"

"Huh, you didn't say anything!" He laughs it off, trying to sound light, but towards the end of his sentence, it changes to a sadness he cannot hold off bay. "I'd thought you'd rather be alone tonight..." He leans on the handle nonetheless, turning the cart to his own home.

"I didn't think I'd have to tell you what to do all the time, specially if you came up with the right answer and invitation yourself. Now hurry up, I'm getting cold here." On command and with a new-lit spirit, Kazunari pedals, envisioning just the right things to heat Shintarou up once they're alone.

*~*~*

They'd eaten dessert together -Shintarou becoming a true joker when he plays hard to please with Kazunari's cooking skills, always eating up everything the dishes serve and then quietly cleaning it up. Taking a bath together had been a silent affair, both keeping their distances and glances to a unerotic degree. They'd watched the news, Kazunari trying the 'eat out of my hand' thing, failed, and served tea instead.

It always surprises him just how badly Shintarou reacts to Kazunari's easiness of getting close and personal and warm; how he tries to cope and keep his face impassive, while his fingers become impatient and move on their own; tickling paths along Kazunari’s thighs, while the latter rests on top of Midorima. The groan hides in Kazunari's neck, the closed off lids telling tales the way they squeeze tight, the turn of the head and the sigh released a pleasure to Kazunari’s skin. It's astonishing; they've come together quite a few times in the last few weeks, never getting serious or finally moving to the last stage of how far they could go. 

Retreating into Kazunari's room, they were dimly illuminated by a dim ball of light in a corner. Kazunari was a person who could have both a messy chaos and a neat cleaned up area; today it was a middle ground, but they'd made space for the futon they now sat upon. Due the loss of the match, their moods were subdued. He still took it upon himself to lift the grey curtain, taking care of his moody Shintarou by sitting on his lap, arms loosely around the tense back. It warmed his heart that they were like this; in the weird sub-space of liking each other's presence without needing to talk; and if they talked it was light and easy, without being shallow. For now it was this weird silence, in which none needed to speak or needed consultation.

Driven by lust and the need to take it further, Kazunari likes the way Shintarou seems to be 'weak' when it comes to his feelings, displaying them or speaking of their existence (he’d denied them a few times, hurting Kazunari’s feelings, only to apologize with little treats the next day; making bento for practice, bringing Scorpio’s lucky item of the day, which he had ‘lying around anyway’). Exploring its depths or talking about what they felt hadn’t been a hot topic they ever started. Although Kazunari likes to grin it off, when he thinks about it, he has no idea what to say. He guesses that they have this not-knowledge in common; how they feel, what they are, what it exactly is. It's been always this pull, the hope to be acknowledged, burning to something deeper and clearer and less selfish.

Above all, it's the way that Shintarou would look away, not give a shit, act passive; but he's the one who never let's go, who, when he turns his head, rounds his arm around Kazunari in a silent hug. A mystified invitation to stay the night, or that he wants to stay over, that he wants him close. Just like now, when Shintarou’s forehead rests against Kazunari's collarbone. Arms securely around the lower back, legs crossed beneath.

"Did you ever ask yourself 'why'?" It's a whisper into the night, a questions as much aimed at Kazunari as it is aimed at himself. Something so quiet and breakable, leaving the filter with resolute trust.

"I do, actually. I did it right now. Can you read minds, Shin-chan?"

The huff of a smile breathes out against his skin, the low-necked shirt perfect to have Shintarou press against his naked skin. "It's on my mind a lot, bullying me...you haven't found the answer yet?"

"Not really. I think it's both simple and complicated. If I were to state the 'why', I guess it goes back to us being on the same team, liking the same sport. Some weird fate-thing bringing us together, and my stubbornness for not backing off when I should. But that's not what this is, right? I mean, the other thing; we're not rivals anymore, proving myself to you gains me nothing but self-respect and maybe hoping for recognition from you. It's nothing touchable, eatable, extinguishable." He pauses, his mind foggy, lips dry. Shintarou calms him with his even breathing, a thumb that rubs slow and near-unfelt circles.

"It goes deeper than that if I'd think about, 'why us, why you?' And I just don't know. It's like a constant pull that I can't keep away from. I tried, trust me, not feeling what I feel for you."

"And? What happened." Kazunari's heart pains him when he thinks about it, the smile empty on his lips. Glad Shintarou can't see him, because he'd see through him instantly -hit him, kiss him, say nothing.

"Pain. I felt miserable and lonely. Like, I don't have much in common with the rest of my classmates, I don't connect to them like I do with our team. Sure, people say I'm likeable and easy to hang around with, and I don’t believe it to be superficial. Or rather, it seems superficial if you measure it with the depth and unrelenting bond we got with the club. And even within that closed off circle, all I can do is look up to people, fight with them, _try_ to be victorious. I really don't know why it has to be you, but it just...has to be." The hurt he feels deep inside rises up like bile, and he snakes one arm higher, hand raking through moss-green hair, as if he wants to hold someone most dear all to himself -not just 'as if'; he does- not just a pull anymore that slacks off; it's a need to keep Shintarou, to maintain this balance in not knowing what they are, but not caring about it enough to be explicit and give it a name. It's fear, too, that Shintarou would leave if it would be too much for him to care.

"What's your opinion about it?" He's done talking, done thinking; his brain hurts just like in the first two weeks in trailing Shintarou.

"I came up with many answers, each from a different view and aspect. First of all, there's fate. You said I beat you, and we end being on a team together. You're not as weak as to give up within this mental state of yours, and we started playing together, some sort of obvious bond because we're both first years. Then, I thought about my amazing capability on finding friendship,” It makes Kazunari laugh, the little sarcastic remark; it shakes his body and eases the strain. “Or caring about such matters, since I never knew such a thing on Teiko; not for real, or whatever distorted reality it presented, became a broken thing beyond repair by mutual mistrust on all sides. My interest is mainly focused on basketball, which you happen to play. I also looked into the matter of attractions," Kazunari shivers at the thought, both anticipating the good and the bad with equal nervousness. He's got a fit body, had girlfriends, knows that he doesn't look weird or anything ugly. Yet, being scrutinized by Shintarou gives it all another meaning, one he's sorta afraid to hear.

"That just became messy; I know that I don't hate your face, don't mind your mouth, like your eyes and sometimes even the way you smile at me. But I cannot state _why_ I like it, it's unreasonable." The edge to the voice rises something crazy and fuzzy in Kazunari's stomach; the mere not understanding, the hint of Shintarou giving a lot of thought about it, about him, in his free time, and without Kazunari around -and yes, love is unreasonable. "So I looked at all these factors and came down to this; it's easy, being with you. It is to the point, nothing hidden, a daily routine. I’ve gotten used to since you never backed down. It's easy, and at the same time, it shouldn't be. It makes no sense and yet...it doesn't confuse me as much as it did before."

"So I guess... we're in some vague space, huh?" Shintarou's forehead is as warm as the breath he exhales through an half-open mouth, and it evens out Kazunari's own messy thoughts. Shintarou sighs deeply, the stroke of air traveling down the open shirt and upon the chest.

"I think so. For now, is it enough for you?" The fear that had gained upper hand, vanished by the promise Shintarou wouldn't go away, at least not in the near future. Feeling the insecurity shifting, Kazunari’s confidence and optimism rose. Leaning back, he lifted the rather gentle face up by the thumbs, surveying Shintarou’s face and being compromised by that weird, unsaid understanding. This time, Kazunari leans in all the way for a kiss, letting his tongue seduce Shintarou's mouth until the other groans with sweet irritations.

"Come on...I'm too tired." They settle beneath thin blankets, Kazunari using Shintarou's chest and upper-arm as a cushion, while a hand snakes under his risen shirt, tapping a tune upon the exposed ribcage. They don't need to figure it out so soon, as long as it feels this warm and good to be together. Kazunari picks up the nearest item he can find, a magazine, and flings it in the general direction of the light switch, hitting it on first try ("Ah yeah, did you see that Shin-chan!? That's the power of the hawk eye.") He feels Shintarou’s other arm moving in the darkness, taking off his glasses and put them out of harm's way.

"Are you...feeling comforted?" Shintarou doesn't say anything for a moment and if it wouldn't be for the pace of his breathing, Kazunari would suspect his desired object has fallen asleep. Maybe he ponders, maybe it's like on the road earlier, and the answer is so clear, the question shouldn't be asked.

"I've been all the time. Annoyed that you came looking for me but also..."

"Also glad I did?" Kazunari is too eager, looking up without seeing a silhouette, smiling against shirt-clothed skin, Kazunari's fingers curled up on the chest.

"Mhn." The affirming-sounding hum is followed by a rare kiss on his forehead, before Shin's cheek settles against the warm place. Kazunari understands, knows that they can't jump and gun to anything as they are prone to do on the court. Easy does it; and Shintarou already stated that it is easy, despite the involvement of hazy fog and messy thoughts, keeping company to a racing heart and the vaguest idea of what they are together. They were together in figuring it out.

**Author's Note:**

> Theme of the fic is set in the title. When I started writing these two assholes, I had no fucking idea what to do with them, so I made it as complex and vague as possible D: I'm sorry this went two different directions without actually getting anywhere.


End file.
